


“The Tale of Emrys”

by Silvio15



Category: Merlin (BBC), Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Canon Era, If You Squint - Freeform, King Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merthur - Freeform, Storytelling, enjoy i guess, idk what to tag, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:34:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29555706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvio15/pseuds/Silvio15
Summary: It’s never a typical day with Arthur.So, as usual, Merlin and Arthur are kidnapped.Not like usual, the kidnapper is a Druid. An,,, oddly wise and nice Druid who just wants to tell them a story.A story about Emrys.But not as the druids tell it. This one is more... personal.—Basically Arthur learns about Emrys, and Merlin gains a potential new ally.
Relationships: Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) & Original Character(s), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin (Merlin) & Original Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	“The Tale of Emrys”

**Author's Note:**

> Ayeee first Merlin fic !! I smashed this out in one day because I had the idea and I was motivated for it :00  
> Probably the most I’ve written for a one-shot-  
> Hope you guys enjoy !!

Just one day. That’s all he asks for. _One day_ of peace, without Arthur being in danger, without the world trying to kill him. Was that so hard to allow? Like, _seriously_ , this was ridiculous!

The day had started normal, for the most part. Arthur had dragged him along to one of his cruel hunting trips with a band of knights, mentioning _“honestly merlin stop being such a girl”_ in that arrogant tone of his. To which Merlin countered with a murmured _“Clotpole”_ to himself.

And then, of course, predictably, they’d been attacked. By a Druid. An oddly powerful Druid, who’d easily defeated the band of knights and then knocked Arthur and Merlin out.

When they came to; they’d both been bound in slightly different manners. It was clear that the Druid perhaps thought Arthur the more dangerous of the two; which was ironic considering the other was a Druid, and therefore must know who Merlin really was. Yet, Merlin had really just been tied to the tree, while Arthur had a rope around his throat connecting him to the tree. His arms and legs were bound with rope too; but not to the tree. 

Merlin absently reflects a bit on how typically bothersome this day is, leaning back into the tree with a half sigh. At least the Druid that attacked them currently wasn’t present. Who knows where they were though. The serving sorcerer ignored the king’s struggling, knowing even if he wanted to get out, he couldn’t. There was magic in these ropes; plus, no way he could get out of it without Arthur realising.

The sound of a twig snapping nearby caught their attention, and Merlin stiffened a bit with anticipation. He hoped he didn’t have to use his magic, but if it came down to it, he would. He would do anything to save Arthur.

The Druid stepped into view then; the hood of his dark blue cloak down to let his face be seen. The man pays his bound ‘prisoners’ no mind, setting a pile of wood down. He takes little effort to arrange them and set them aflame with a flash of gold that fades within moments from his green eyes.

“Who are you?” Arthur demands then, breaking the silence. “What do you want?”

The Druid ignores them for a few moments, ensuring the fire is settled. It’s positioned enough that Merlin can feel some of the warmth, and he’s certain it reaches Arthur too. “The druids are peaceful people.” Merlin mentions, wary, but it seems to catch the stranger’s attention. “So... why are you doing this?”

There’s contemplation in the others expression; even as his gaze does not leave Merlin’s. “I mean neither of you any harm-“

“Then let us go.” Arthur cuts in crudely. He gets a soft chuckle in response as the Druid glances over to him.

“Not till you’ve learnt a lesson. Again; I mean you no harm. I merely wish to tell a tale.” He explains, calm and peaceful.

“A tale? You kidnapped us and killed my men to tell us a _story?”_

“I did not kill your knights. They’re safe. But, I wanted you both alone. It’s a matter of importance, and urgency, that you listen.  Especially you, Arthur Pendragon. I do not have as much time as I’d like, and hence I did not have the time to explain earlier. Believe me, it is better this way.”

“Can’t you untie us then?” Merlin pipped in lightly.

“Can I guarantee you will sit and listen? That you will not attempt to threaten nor harm me?” The stranger counters with a raised brow slightly.

“Yes.” Merlin says in response, and shoots Arthur a glance to ensure the King’s compliance as well. Honestly, he truly felt a little curious to what the Druid might say. What was so important he needed to tell them both?

Arthur seemed a little reluctant to do so, even as the Druid watched him and waited for his agreement to comply. “Only if you promise the same; that you won’t harm either of us.” The king says with a half frown. The stranger inclined his head in an agreement, and when Arthur gives his verbal acceptance, the Druid waves a hand and the ropes turn into simple straws of hay they easy break away from.

The stranger beckoned a hand for them to sit closer then, and though they both hesitated a moment, Merlin is the first to move close and sit by the fire. Arthur reluctantly follows his lead and sits at his side.

“What’s your name?” Merlin asks then after a few moments of silence.

The Druid tilts his head with a moment of pondering, as though his name was not something familiar to him. “You may call me Galdur.” He decides.

“... So that’s not your _real_ name.” Arthur observed; more of a statement then a question. He only gets a half shrug in response. The king half sighs to himself a bit with a frown. “This tale you want to tell us of... what is it about?”

“It is the tale of Emrys.” The Druid responds, ignoring the way Merlin tensed and stared at him warily. “Though, not the way the Druid’s tell it.”

“But you’re a Druid...?” Arthur says, questioningly.

“Other druids,  then.”

“... What is their version?”

“Their version, is a prophecy.” Galdur responds. “Depicting the vision of a powerful sorcerer. One in which has never before been seen since the decline of the Old Religion. One who stands at the High King’s side, and helps to untie the five kingdoms. The High King himself is depicted and hoped to bring peace to the lands and bring magic back to the land.” He paused, glancing between the two briefly. Merlin, he notes, looks unsettled and displeased by the repeat of a prophecy he must know well by now. “But as I said; I do not want to tell the tale of the prophecy. I want to tell the  tale of Emrys.”

“Wait wait, who’s the High King? Who’s this- this  _ Emrys _ guy? Why have I never heard this prophecy before?” Arthur questions pressingly.

“Magic is still outlawed.” Galdur points out. “The Druids, while viewing you of a high regard, would not have told you of the prophecy. You weren’t ready to hear it, and you have yet guaranteed their safety and peace. Emrys, as I’ve said, is a powerful sorcerer. Some call him the ‘King of the Druids’, though that is a bit far fetched.”

“And the High King? Who’s that?”

“That,” The Druid smiles knowingly. “Is a revelation for a later time. I cannot answer all of your questions, but perhaps some I may, after the tale.”

There’s a clear, silent statement for Arthur to stop interrupting. And the king reluctantly complied, even if he was still confused and wary. Merlin on the other hand is mostly confused. What kind of tale did Galdur know, if not the one of his prophecy? “Tell your tale then, Galdur.” Arthur spoke after a few moments, gesturing with encouragement for the other to speak.

The male gives a light smile, letting his gaze fall to the fire to watch it crackle and burn. “After the Great Purge, when hope was a fragile ember in the remains of a drowned fire, the druids foresaw the time of Albion. A time where the five kingdoms would be United under one man; the High King, and magic would thrive once more. The birth of a powerful sorcerer was also seen through seers, years before such a birth came about. But come it did. A young boy, blessed with powers stronger then any sorcerer before him, and cursed with the pressure of a destiny he had yet to know of. The child was mastering magic long before he could talk or walk. It was unpredictable, and yet strong. Some say he was blessed by the gods themselves with such a strong gift.”

“Wait- He was _born_ with magic?” Arthur cuts in. Merlin almost slapped him for it, because he’d already gotten hooked into the tale. The Tale of himself. Yet spoken in a version that was so much different to what he’s heard in the past. And also because  _ it’s rude to interrupt someone, you dollophead. _

“Yes, Arthur.” The Druid says, smiling lightly with amusement. “Many, many sorcerers and witches are born with magic. Not all practice it willingly, but out of necessity to control their magic.” He points out, light and informative. Even if this new revelation clearly leaves Arthur struck with a wave of guilt and horror. No wonder so many people had magic; why would they practice it in a land that it’s outlawed? It would make no sense? But- But if this was true... then they were simply killing off people for the way they were  _ born _ ...

After a moment, he makes a small gesture for the Druid to continue, even while catching notice of Merlin’s concerned gaze. “Sorry for the interruption. Please, continue.”

“This young boy, though granted a different name at birth, was referred to as Emrys by the druids. His abilities expanded and grew with him; enough so that even by the young age of six, he’d mastered the ability to slow time. Of course, he lived in a world were magic is a death sentence... His very birth, was his own death sentence.” He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in, before continuing. “He learnt how to control his magic. To keep it hidden. He made a friend for it, and later lost that same friend...” Galdur half glanced at Merlin with a gentle gaze, even as the other swallowed back his heartache from the loss of such a dear friend of his.

“His magic was strong. He needed to learn to control and harness it. So, while still young, he was sent off to learn. And learn he did. He learnt to harness his magic, to embrace and love it. To value and treasure his gift... of course, it did not stop him fearing for his life every minute of every day. But he learnt to live with it. He used it for good; to protect and heal. Never once for evil. All he ever did was with the protection of another in mind; the High King. For even before he knew his destiny, he still saved the future High King’s life repeatedly... and then he met his Kin, though he did not know this at the time. He was advised and tricked. Helped and... misunderstood. Yet still, they are kin. Among the last of their kinds.”

“But there are countless sorcerers...? How can one... supposedly powerful sorcerer be among the last of his kin if there are still so many more?” Arthur piped in curiously, taking the opportunity of Galdur’s pause to ask.

“His kin was that of a creature both feared and adored.” The Druid explained. “His kin was that of a dragon, and he a dragon lord.”

“A dragon?” Arthur breaths, stiffening. “You mean the Great Dragon? He was the one that freed him?! That dragon _slaughtered_ so many of my people! It almost _killed_ _ me _ -!”

“And yet, you live.” Galdur cuts in through the King’s growing anger and Merlin’s stewing anxiety. “And you have lived through all battles you face. You must remember, Emrys was tricked by the dragon. He tried to put it off as long as needed; but the Dragon deceived him and forced him to make a vow he could not break. Emrys did not have a choice in the matter. Plus, the great dragon has been of no harm to you since, correct?”

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but shoulders slump and he reluctantly gave into that logic. He could understand that. Merlin feels himself filled with silent relief as well, watching Arthur somewhat. “Okay but... I don’t get how this Emrys can be a dragon lord then... the last dragon lord was Balinor, and he died.”

“The gift of a dragon lord is passed from father to son, upon the father’s death. Balinor’s son inherited the gift. In addition, just because you believe Balinor was the last dragon lord, does not mean he was. There are countless of those with magical possession who remain in hiding, and have been for years. There are many more spread across the lands; though majority have well lost the gift by now, there are still a few dragon lords present or in waiting.”

“There are _more_ dragon lords?” Merlin breaths, sounding borderline excited, barely able to contain such joy at the news. So he wasn’t the only one? Why hadn’t Kilgharrah told him about this? Unless... maybe the dragon didn’t know either? That would make this even better! Merlin could surprise him with the news!

“Yes.” Galdur replies, smiling with fond amusement at Merlin’s barely contained joy and excitement. “There are a few more, spread through the five kingdoms and beyond.”

Merlin feels a wave of joy and silent relief. God he had to meet them now; had to learn more about his heritage. There was only so much he could learn from Kilgharrah. “You can continue,” he says after a moment. While it hurt to be reminded of the loss he faced, he was rather curious how this Druid knew so much of his life. Much more then the average Druid did, for sure.

Galdur gave a soft smile before complying. “Emrys met and later freed his kin. In between that time, he found and lost those he cared for. Experienced the death of a lover; of what could have been...” Merlin has to hold back tears at the soft gaze Galdur have him. The memories of Freya; of their hopes to run away and live together, flashed with bittersweet pain. But he had access to her now, in a way. With her as the Lady in the Lake... “He was exposed to a prophecy that caused such distrust to one who could have been a trusted ally... the future is one that cannot be viewed clearly. It has infinite pathways after all, and while Emrys viewed by one version of the path ahead, it’s not one that is certain to occur.”

Merlin catches the subtle words there; the way he spoke of his vision of Mordred. Of Arthur’s death. He felt slight relief in this; in being told that it was not certain Mordred would kill the king. It was a possibility, yes, but it could change. Merlin still felt distrustful in the matter, but... the future was not set in stone.

“Emrys can see the future?” Arthur asks when the pause stretched for a few moments longer. 

“With the right tools, yes.” Galdur nodded, not minding the questions for the curious young king. Curiosity was a vital tool to gaining the power of knowledge, after all. “Emrys watched a prince become a king from the shadows. He still does; watch over the future High King, and waits the day with patient loyalty... and the day will come, when he no longer needs hide in the darkest shadows. The day will come when he can reveal himself without fear of banishment or death. When that day comes, he and the High King will become a United force in the union of the kingdoms, and no enemy will banter their path. They will stand tall and their stories will be known for centuries to follow.”

Galdur gives a half smile to himself, glancing to the two with a wise knowing gaze. “ _That_ , is the tale of Emrys. That is the tale of his suffering and loneliness. His loyalty and kindness. And the tale of the future he and the High King will create together.” He says softly.

Merlin can almost feel the tears making his eyes shimmer, ducking his head to rub it away quickly before Arthur can notice. He didn’t know why but... the way Galdur told his tale... it was so much more heartbreaking and yet hopeful then as he knew it. He didn’t know how to describe the feeling... 

There’s a shared silence then, letting the fire crackle and hiss with the burning wood, and thoughts stir and ponder in the minds of the king and his loyal servant.

“The high king...” Arthur says then, tone soft as he breaks the silence once more. “It’s... who is it?” He asks, looking up at Galdur, even though there’s a clear suspicion on the answer. 

Galdur gives a knowing glance. “It is you, Arthur Pendragon. You are the Once and Future King.”

There’s another silence, before Arthur scoffs lightly. “It can’t be me.” He denies doubtfully. “This- this high king you’ve described... That’s just vague ideologies. And- and I haven’t done anything to lift the ban, or unite the five kingdoms.”

“But you will.” Galdur replies, casual and yet sounding so certain of the fact. “One day; perhaps not anytime soon, but one day you will. I have little doubt. Whether now or in a future time.” The Druid shifts, leaning a bit closer and placing an arm on the king’s shoulder. Arthur tensed at the contact, but Galdur doesn’t back down. “You needn’t doubt yourself so much, child. Your time will come. And you will be ready when it does. You will know what you must do, and your people will love you for it. You are a great king, and you will become even greater with time. You are strong, Arthur, and have a good heart. Believe in yourself.” He assures, words kind and wise. Like that of a loving parent. 

Arthur swallows around a lump in his throat, averting his gaze with a half nod. Galdur smiles lightly in satisfaction at this and sits back, glancing to Merlin and catching the others gaze with his own. 

_‘You are a great sorcerer too. I know you hear it a lot, but I mean it in a different manner. You are kind and brave, Merlin. Perhaps more then you realise.’_ The Druid tells him kindly, seeing Merlin swallow hard to such kind words as well, but giving a short nod in his understanding.

“Now, as promised, I’ll let you go.” The Druid says, standing and brushing some dirt from his legs and robes. “I’ll send you back to your castle.”

“Wait! I still have questions.” Arthur protests, jumping to his feet. “Who is Emrys? If- if what you’re saying is true, and he’s helped me so much in the past, and even now, then- then I deserve the right to know.  _ Please _ , tell me.”

“Emrys is a friend of Camelot. One of the greatest sorcerers to live, a silent protector. A guardian Angel, that lurks in the shadows, waiting for his time and yet assisting the High King every step of the way.” Galdur tells him gently.

Merlin feels his heart swell and a weight rise off his shoulders. Letting out a soft breath, he can’t help but feel... understood. This Druid... he’s so much different to druids he’s met in the past. This Druid knows him, not just on a face to face aspect, but knows his story. His struggles and pain, his loss and hopes. He knows it all. And there’s also the fact of the amount of power that Merlin can feel from the other man; yet at the same time he feels no real fear. Just... safe, and oddly cared for. And the way the Druid describes him in such a high light... it doesn’t hold the same weighing pressure of when the Druids or Kilgharrah have told him of the prophecy.

“Do... Do I know Emrys?” Arthur ask, cutting through the train of thought. “Is he someone close?”

The Druid just gives another knowing smile. “He is known by those who care for him more then he will understand. He is known by his enemies, by his allies, and his loved ones. He has always been close; and always will be.”

Arthur scowls a bit with a flare of frustration. “Just tell me who he is!” He demands.

“It is not my place to reveal him, Arthur. Everything will occur in due time, I promise you this. One day, perhaps, he will step from the shadows and reveal himself. But he has experienced much pain and loss and fear. You must understand, that no matter who Emrys is, you will not know till  he is ready. You will not know, because there is a crushing fear in his heart, that you will refuse a change on the laws of magic, if you knew his identity.”

He does not mention the fear Emrys holds that Arthur will feel betrayed and kill or banish him. It’s not his place to say. It will be brought up in time. Everything has its time. And he can see that the King is still a bit frustrated, even while having reluctant understanding on the situation at hand.

They fall into silence once again, the darkened sky around them more obvious now compared to the brightness of the still burning flames. “It’s time for you to depart.” Galdur spoke after a moment. He murmured a spell then, and Arthur blinks upon noticing himself fading. His breathing hitched with a spark of panic, making to protest. But by that point, he finds the forest has faded away and left him in his chambers.

“What did you do?” Merlin questions the Druid; the two left alone now. His tone was bordering on the edge of a demand at the wave of worry for his king.

“Worry not Emrys. I used a transportation spell. He is within his own chambers in the castle.” Galdur assures soothingly, moving closer so they could sit together.

There’s a brief few moments of silence, and Merlin is the first to break it. “How... how did you know all that?” He asks, quiet and wary.

The Druid tilts his head with a light smile. “I have been around for a long time, Merlin. I have seen you grow strong, and grow lonely. Most druids would not interfere with destiny’s course, especially with you. But, you are growing tired; your soul older then your years. You needed this. And now Arthur knows the tale of Emrys. I hope it will give him a nudge in the right direction, without revealing your identity, until you are ready to provide it.”

Merlin nodded a bit in his understanding. “Can I see you again?” He asks after a moment, tone soft and hopeful. This Druid... he feels safe. And it’s obvious he’s wise, and perhaps much older then he looks. Plus, he needs someone to talk about these things—someone who will understand and know how he feels. Someone to guide and advise him when he needs help. Kilgharrah and Gaius are helpful and all, but it’s not the same...

To his relief, Galdur inclines his head in an offered agreement. “Whenever you require my services or guidance, I will do my best to meet you. When you need me, call for me. You’ll know how, if the time comes.” He assures, kind and wise. He waves a hand then with a murmured spell, even as Merlin makes to protest, knowing this will be it for now and yet wanting to know more.

And yet, when he blinks, he’s back in his own chambers in Gaius’s infirmary. He feels both... disappointed and yet satisfied. Glad to find someone new to help him, and bothered by how little time they had together... He can feel the touch of new knowledge though. Beyond what he has learnt this night. He can feel it; a powerful spell. One he does not know the words for, but... he can feel that should he ever come to truly need it, the spell would come to him.

There’s a sharp bang then, and Merlin darts from his room worriedly, only to find Arthur in a matching manner. Worried and yet looking relieved the moment he sees Merlin is safe and unharmed.

And Merlin... well, he can not help but feel more hopeful for the future that’s to come. 

**Author's Note:**

> Did you enjoy? Leave a comment !  
> This really do have potential for a second part, but for now it’s just a one shot. If a lot of ppl want a second part then I’ll consider continuing it. 
> 
> Insta is @1silvio ^^


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